


Lazarus Rising (4.01)

by ackles_ass_equation



Series: Superghetto [62]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Wings, BAMF Castiel, Canon Compliant, Canon Related, Castiel's Handprint, Demonology, Episode: s04e01 Lazarus Rising, F/M, First Meetings, Flashbacks, Hell, Hell Flashbacks, Holy Water, Ruby's Knife, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Screenplay/Script Format, Shapeshifters - Freeform, Singer Salvage Yard, angel lore, hellhound, smiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 19:33:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7814362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ackles_ass_equation/pseuds/ackles_ass_equation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobby, Sam, n' Dean visit a oldschool playa of Bobby's, a psycho, ta help dem git some lyrics as ta how tha fuck n' why Dean has returned from Hell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. NOW

TITLE CARD:  
THE ROAD SO FAR

AC/DCz “Shook Me All Night Long” skits over general badassery of SAM n' DEAN n' tha basic deal dat DEAN went ta Hell cuz SAM couldn't stop dat shit.

TITLE CARD:  
NOW

We peep quick flashez of DEAN bein tormented, his wild lil' fuckin eyes flickin back n' forth, his wild lil' grill covered up in blood.

Cut ta DEAN up in a thugged-out dark place; his thugged-out lil' punk-ass breathes heavily, flicks his fuckin lighta on. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude is inside a wooden coffin.

**DEAN**  
(extremely hoarse)  
Help! Help! Help!

DEAN poundz on tha wood above his head; dirt rains down on his wild lil' grill yo. Dude continues ta pound. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

EXT. FIELD- DAY

In tha middle of a grassy field, a simple wooden cross is planted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time fo' realz. As we pan back, a HAND bursts outta tha dirt, followed by another n' shit. Well shiiiit, it is DEAN, n' his schmoooove ass crawls his way outta tha ground, groanin n' gaspin yo. Dude lies on his back, pantin yo. Dude stands, looks round up in tha glarin sunlight fo' realz. Around his crude headstone be a slick circle of dead trees, layin on tha ground as if a unearthly bangin blast had felled dem wild-ass muthafuckas.


	2. ACT ONE

EXT fo' realz. A COUNTRY ROAD- DAY

Through hazy heat, DEAN strutts down a empty road n' approaches a abandoned gas station. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude poundz on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **DEAN  
** (hoarse) Hello?

INT. GAS STATION- DAY

DEAN rolls up his outa hoodie over his bangin right hand, breaks tha glass on tha door. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Inside, he grabs a wata forty from a gangbangin' fridge n' gulps at it, gaspin yo. Dude findz a newspaper n' sees tha date, which reads:

Thursday, September 18th

 **DEAN  
** September n' shit.

INT- GAS STATION BATHROOM - DAY

DEAN washes his wild lil' grill up in a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dingy sink, then looks up n' stares at his bangin reflection. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude wears a tight black t-shirt. Frowning, da perved-out muthafucka stands, pulls tha hoodie up ta expose his chest.

 **FLASHBACK  
** DEANz chest is ripped apart by tha Hellhoundz (3.16)

 **PRESENT  
** DEAN stares at his unblemished, unscarred chest up in tha dingy gas station mirror yo. Dude turns his fuckin left shoulder ta tha mirror n' pulls up tha sleeve ta reveal a large, raw HANDPRINT BRAND.

INT- GAS STATION MART- DAY

DEAN pulls snacks n' juice bars from tha shelves, along wit nuff muthafuckin bottlez of water, n' stashes dem up in a plastic bag. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Stoppin up in front of a magazine stand, he grins slowly. On tha stand be a Adult Magazine - “Busty Asian Beauties” yo. Dude picks it up, smirks, flips all up in it, n' stuffs it up in tha bag like a muthafucka.

Dude goes ta tha counter, sets down tha bag, n' hits a single button on tha register, snappin his wild lil' fingers up in satisfaction when it pops open. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. As he lootin tha chedda, tha TV ta his fuckin left flicks on, showin only static yo. Dude shuts it off; only ta git a radio ta his bangin right turn on ta white noise. Not wastin a moment, he goes ta another shelf n' grabs a cold-ass lil carton of salt, opens it, n' begins ta pour it along tha windowsill.

A high-pitched single tone begins, n' DEAN clutches his fuckin left ear up in pain as his schmoooove ass continues ta pour salt wit his bangin right hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! As it continues, da ruffneck drops tha salt n' crouches ta tha floor, groanin up in agony. Da window above his head shattas as tha sound continues, n' da ruffneck drops ta tha floor yo. Dude leaps ta his wild lil' feet ta try ta escape, n' mo' glass on tha ceilin n' walls shattas yo. Dude looks round cautiously.

EXT. PHONE BOOTH- DAY

DEAN dials a number, n' hears only a alert tone.

 **RECORDED VOICE  
** We sorry bout dat bullshit. Yo ass have reached a number dat has been disconnected. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.

DEAN hangs up tha pay beeper n' bangs another coin, dials another number n' shit. Well shiiiit, it rings once, then is picked up.

 **BOBBY (V.O.)  
** Yeah?

 **DEAN  
** Bobby?

 **BOBBY (V.O.)  
** Yeah?

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but mah dirty ass.

 **BOBBY (V.O.)  
** Whoz “me”?

 **DEAN  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

A dial tone sounds. DEAN hangs up tha receiver n' dials again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **BOBBY (V.O.)  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is this?

 **DEAN  
** Bobby, dig mah dirty ass.

 **BOBBY (V.O.)  
** This ain't funky. Call again, I be bout ta bust a cap up in ya.

Da dial tone again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN hangs up tha phone, turns yo. Dude sees a old, beat-up white hoopty parked outside yo. His eyes light up; dat schmoooove muthafucka hotwires tha hoopty n' pulls away from tha gas station. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

INT. BOBBY'S HOUSE- DAY

To a poundin on tha door, BOBBY'S hand appears ta open dat shit. On tha stoop is DEAN, lookin winded n' apprehensive yo. Dude smilez cautiously. BOBBY looks at his ass suspiciously.

 **DEAN  
** Surprise.

 **BOBBY  
** I, I don't...

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, me neither n' shit. (Dude enters.) But here I am.

Behind his back, BOBBY takes a silver knife fo' realz. As DEAN approaches, BOBBY lunges forward n' slashes at his muthafuckin ass. DEAN grabs his thugged-out arm n' twists it around; BOBBY breaks tha grip n' backhandz his ass up in tha face.

 **DEAN  
** Bobby dawwwwg! It aint nuthin but me!

 **BOBBY  
** My fuckin ass!

 **DEAN  
** (shoves a cold-ass lil chair between his dirty ass n' BOBBY, holdz his handz out) Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait son! Yo crazy-ass name is Robert Steven Singer n' shit. Yo ass became a hunta afta yo' hoe gots possessed, and... you bout tha closest thang I gotta a gangbangin' daddy n' shit. Bobby. It aint nuthin but mah dirty ass.

BOBBY lowers tha knife, steps forward slowly yo. Dude places a hand gently on DEAN'S shoulder n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Suddenly da perved-out muthafucka slashes again yo, but DEAN quickly subdues n' disarms his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** I aint a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shapeshifter!

 **BOBBY  
** Then you a Revenant!

DEAN shoves BOBBY away, havin taken tha KNIFE yo. Dude holdz it up in front of his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** Alright. If I was either, could I do dis- wit a silver knife?

DEAN rolls up his fuckin left sleeve, and, grimacing, slices his thugged-out arm above tha elbow wit tha knife fo' realz. A line of blood appears.

 **BOBBY  
** (startin ta believe it) Dean?

 **DEAN  
** Thatz what tha fuck I've been tryin ta rap , biatch.

BOBBY breaks, grabbin DEAN up in fo' a tight hug. DEAN returns tha gangbang wit enthusiasm, relief on his wild lil' face. They pull apart.

 **BOBBY  
** It's... It aint nuthin but phat ta peep you, boy.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, you like a muthafucka.

 **BOBBY  
** But... how tha fuck did you bust out?

 **DEAN  
** I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. I just, uh, I just raised up in a pine box...

Suddenly, BOBBY splashes wata up in DEAN'S face. DEAN pauses, spits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast.

 **DEAN  
** I aint a thugged-out demon either, you know.

 **BOBBY  
** Sorry. Can't be too careful.

They go further tha fuck into tha house, DEAN wipin his wild lil' grill wit a towel.

 **BOBBY  
** But... dat don't cook up a lick of sense.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Yeah, you preachin' ta tha choir. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **BOBBY  
** Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo crazy-ass chest was ribbons, yo' insides was slop fo' realz. And you've been buried  _four months_. Even if you could slip outta hell n' back tha fuck into yo' meat suit -

 **DEAN  
** I know, I should be lookin like a Thrilla vizzle reject.

 **BOBBY  
** What do you remember?

 **DEAN  
** Not much. I remember I was a Hellhoundz chew toy, n' then... lights out. Then I come ta six feet under, dat was dat shit. (BOBBY sits.) Samz numberz not makin moves yo. He's, uh... he not...

 **BOBBY  
** Oh, he kickin it fo' realz. As far as I know.

 **DEAN  
** Good.... Wait, what tha fuck do you mean, as far as you know?

 **BOBBY  
** I aint talked ta his ass fo' months.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass is kidding, you just let his ass go off by his dirty ass?

 **BOBBY  
** Dude was dead set on dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Bobby, you should've been lookin afta his muthafuckin ass.

 **BOBBY  
** I tried. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! These last months aint been exactly easy as fuck , you know. For his ass or mah dirty ass. Our thugged-out asses had ta bury you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Why did you bury me, anyway?

 **BOBBY  
** I wanted you salted n' burned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Usual drill. But... Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam wouldn't have dat shit.

 **DEAN  
** Well, I be glad da thug won dat one.

 **BOBBY  
** Dude holla'd you'd need a funky-ass body when he gots you back home somehow. Thatz bout all da perved-out muthafucka holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** (suspicious) What do you mean?

 **BOBBY  
** Dude was on tha fuckin' down-low. Real on tha fuckin' down-low fo' realz. And then he just took off. Wouldn't return mah calls. I tried ta find his ass yo, but da ruffneck didn't wanna be found. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** Oh, damnit, Sammy.

 **BOBBY  
** What?

 **DEAN  
** Oh, he gots me home aiiight. But whatever da ruffneck did, it is shitty mojo.

 **BOBBY  
** What make you so sure?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass should have peeped tha grave site. Dat shiznit was like a nuke went off fo' realz. And then there was this... dis force, dis presence, I don't give a fuck yo, but it, it blew past me at a gangbangin' fill-up joint fo' realz. And then all dis bullshit. (Dude strips his jacket, pulls up his sleeve ta reveal tha brand.)

 **BOBBY  
** (standing) What up in tha hell?

 **DEAN  
** Dat shiznit was like a thugged-out demon just yanked mah crazy ass out. Or rode me out.

 **BOBBY  
** But why?

 **DEAN  
** To hold up they end of tha bargain.

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass be thinkin Sam done cooked up a thugged-out deal.

 **DEAN  
** It aint nuthin but what tha fuck I would have done.

INT BOBBY'S HOUSE- DAY

 **DEAN  
** (into tha phone) Yeah, hi, I gots a cold-ass lil cell beeper account wit you muthafuckas, n' uh, I lost mah phone. I was wonderin if you could turn tha GPS on fo' mah dirty ass. (beat) Yeah. Namez Wedge Antilles. (beat) Ghetto is 2-4-7-4. (beat) Nuff props, biatch.

DEAN hangs up tha beeper n' crosses ta a laptop on tha table.

 **BOBBY  
** How'd you know he'd use dat name?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass kiddin' me son, biatch? What don't I know bout dat kid?

Da laptop is open ta a wizzy browser; DEAN types up in tha address fo' ARC MOBILE.

 **DEAN  
** (pickin up one of tha nuff empty liquor bottlez scattered around) Yo, Bobby, biatch? Whatz tha deal wit tha liquor store, biatch? What, is yo' muthafathas outta hood or something?

 **BOBBY  
** Like I holla'd. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Last few months ain't been all dat easy as fuck .

 **DEAN  
** (holdz his wild lil' freakadelic gaze fo' a moment) Right.

Da laptop beeps; tha display shows a cold-ass lil hood map wit a funky-ass blue arrow pointin ta a star. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Da locator reads:

Phone Location:  
263 Adams Road  
Pontiac, Illinois.

 **DEAN  
** Samz up in Pontiac, Illinois.

 **BOBBY  
** Right near where you was planted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.

 **DEAN  
** Right where I popped up yo. Hell of a cold-ass lil coincidence, don't you think?

EXT fo' realz. ASTORIA MOTEL- NIGHT

DEAN n' BOBBY strutt down a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dingy hallway n' knock on a thugged-out door wit tha number 207 inside a red ass. Da door is opened by a HOT YOUNG WOMAN wit dark hair, bustin only a tank top n' underwear. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks at dem expectantly.

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN  
** So where is it?

 **DEAN  
** (looks at BOBBY, confused) Wherez what?

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN  
** Da pizzy... dat takes two muthafuckas ta deliver?

 **DEAN  
** I be thinkin we gots tha wack room.

SAM steps tha fuck into tha light yo. Dude is grim n' focused, n' wears a grey t-shirt n' jeans.

 **SAM  
** Yo, is...

SAM stops dead when da perved-out muthafucka sees DEAN yo. Dude swallows, shocked, his wild lil' fuckin eyes flickin between DEAN n' BOBBY.

 **DEAN  
** (quietly, wit much feeling) Heya, Sammy.

SAM is silent. DEAN steps tha fuck into tha room, ignorin tha H.Y.W., whoz ass steps aside ta let his ass in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. As DEAN gets close, SAM pulls a knife n' lunges at DEAN yo. H.Y.W. screams; DEAN blocks SAM'S battle n' BOBBY pulls SAM off, grippin his ass round tha shoulders. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM struggles.

 **SAM  
** (shouting) Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?!

 **DEAN  
** Like you didn't do this?!

 **SAM  
** Do what?!

 **BOBBY  
** It aint nuthin but his muthafuckin ass. It aint nuthin but his muthafuckin ass. Ya Mom shoulda told ya, I been all up in dis already, itz  _really_  his muthafuckin ass.

 **SAM  
** (stares at DEAN as tha struggle slowly goes outta his body) What...

 **DEAN  
** (advancin cautiously, starin at SAM) I know. I look dunkadelic, huh?

BOBBY lets go of SAM, whoz ass looks on tha verge of tears as da perved-out muthafucka steps forward n' pulls DEAN tha fuck into a thugged-out desperate hug. They embrace fo' nuff muthafuckin seconds, heavy wit emotion, as BOBBY looks on wit tears up in his wild lil' fuckin eyes. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM pushes DEAN back ta armz length yo. H.Y.W. is lookin on, lookin confused.

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN  
** So is you two like... together?

 **SAM  
** (like he just remembered dat dat dunkadelic hoe there) What, biatch? No. No. Dat punk mah brutha n' shit.

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN  
** Uh... gots dat shit. I... I guess. Look, I should probably go.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah, thatz probably a phat idea. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sorry.

EXT. MOTEL ROOM- NIGHT

SAM, now bustin a white button-down, opens tha door ta let tha H.Y.W., now dressed up in a adorable blue plaid shirt, out.

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN  
** So, call mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** Yeah. Yeah, shizzle thang, Kathy.

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN (disappointed)  
** Kristy.

 **SAM  
** Right.

She leaves, n' SAM shuts tha door.

INT. MOTEL ROOM- NIGHT

SAM comes back tha fuck into tha room n' sits down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. DEAN is standin above him, arms crossed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude n' BOBBY is both lookin at SAM suspiciously.

 **DEAN  
** So tell me, what'd it cost?

 **SAM  
** (smiling) Da girl, biatch? I don't pay, Dean.

DEAN Thatz not funky, Sam. To brang me back. What'd it cost, biatch? Was it just yo' soul, or was it suttin' worse?

 **SAM  
** Yo ass be thinkin I done cooked up a thugged-out deal?

 **BOBBY  
** Thatz exactly what tha fuck we think.

 **SAM  
** Well, I didn't.

 **DEAN  
** (intensely) Don't lie ta mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** I aint lying.

 **DEAN  
** (advancing) So what tha fuck now, I be off tha hook n' you on, is dat it, biatch? Yo ass is some demonz biiiatch-boy, biatch? I didn't wanna be saved like all dis bullshit.

 **SAM  
** (standing, angrily) Look, Dean, I wish I had done it, all right?

 **DEAN  
** (grabs SAM by tha front of his shirt) Therez no other way dat dis could have gone down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Now tell tha real deal!

 **SAM  
** (breakin DEAN'S grip) I tried every last muthafuckin thang. Thatz tha real deal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack. I tried openin tha Devilz Gate yo. Hell, I tried ta bargain, Dean yo, but no demon would deal, all right, biatch? Yo ass was rottin up in Hell fo' months. For months, n' I couldn't stop dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So I be sorry as a muthafucka it wasn't me, all right, biatch? Dean, I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** (relenting) It aint nuthin but all gravy, Sammy. Yo ass don't gotta apologize, I believe you, biatch.

 **BOBBY  
** Don't git me wrong, I be gladdened dat Samz ass remains intact yo, but it do raise a sticky question. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** If da ruffneck didn't pull me out, then what tha fuck did?


	3. ACT TWO

INT. MOTEL ROOM- NIGHT

DEAN n' BOBBY is seated tha couch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM entas n' passes up bottlez of brew, then sits across from DEAN.

 **DEAN  
** So what tha fuck was you bustin round here if you weren't diggin me outta mah grave?

 **SAM  
** Well, once I figured up I couldn't save you, I started hustlin down Lilith, tryin ta git some payback.

 **BOBBY**  
(accusing)  
All by yo ass. Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck do you be thinkin yo ass is, yo' oldschool man?

DEAN sees something, frowns, n' crosses towardz dat shit.

 **SAM  
** Uh, yeah, I be sorry, Bobby. I should have called. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I was pretty messed up.

DEAN picks up what tha fuck he'd seen  
a pink flowered bra yo. Dude holdz it up.

 **DEAN  
** Oh yeah. I straight-up feel yo' pain. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **SAM  
** Anyways, uh, I was checkin these demons outta Tennessee, n' outta nowhere they took a hard left, booked up here.

 **DEAN  
** When?

 **SAM  
** Yesterdizzle morning.

 **DEAN  
** When I busted out.

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass be thinkin these demons is here 'cause of yo slick ass?

 **SAM  
** But why?

 **DEAN  
** Well, I don't give a fuck- some badass demon drags me up n' now this, biatch? It aint nuthin but gotta be connected somehow.

 **BOBBY  
** How tha fuck you feelin', anyway?

 **DEAN  
** I be a lil hungry.

 **BOBBY  
** Fuck dat shit, I mean, do you feel like yo ass, biatch? Anythang strange, or different?

 **DEAN  
** Or demonic, biatch? Bobby, how tha fuck nuff times do I gotta prove I be me son?

 **BOBBY  
** Yeah. Well, listen. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. No demonz lettin you loose outta tha goodnizz of they hearts, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. They've gotta have suttin' nasty planned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** Well, I feel fine.

 **SAM  
** Okay, look, our phat asses don't give a fuck what tha fuck they planning. We gots a pile of thangs n' no shovel. We need help.

 **BOBBY  
** I know a psycho fo' realz. A few minutes from here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Somethang dis big, maybe dat freaky freaky biatch heard tha other side rappin'.

 **DEAN  
** Hell yeah, itz worth a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shot.

 **BOBBY  
** I be bout ta be right back

BOBBY exits.

DEAN standz as if ta muthafuckin bounce.

 **SAM  
** Yo, wait. (stands) Yo ass probably want dis back.

SAM reaches tha fuck into his collar n' pulls up a cold-ass lil cord. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Well shiiiit, it is DEAN'S AMULET yo. Dude places it up in DEAN'S hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! DEAN looks at it, touched.

 **DEAN  
** Thanks.

 **SAM**  
Yeah, don't mention dat shit.  
(DEAN puts tha AMULET on)  
Yo Dean, what tha fuck was it like?

 **DEAN  
** What, Hell, biatch? I don't give a fuck, I, I must have blacked it out. I don't remember a thugged-out damn thang.

 **SAM**  
(nodding)  
Well, give props ta Dogg fo' dis shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah.

INT. MOTEL BATHROOM- NIGHT

DEAN flicks on tha light n' stares at his dirty ass up in tha mirror yo. Dude runs a hand over his chin n' leans forward on tha sink.

 **FLASHBACK  
** Closeup of DEAN'S bloody, terrified face, wit screams n' eerie sounds.

 **PRESENT  
** DEAN pulls back from tha mirror, blinkin up in mad drama.

EXT. MOTEL PARKING LOT- NIGHT

BOBBY leadz tha thugs down a set of steps.

 **BOBBY  
** Dat hoe bout four minutes down tha Interstate. Try ta keep up.

BOBBY gets up in his car.

 **SAM  
** I assume you gonna wanna drive.

SAM pulls tha keys outta his bangin right pocket n' tosses dem at DEAN, whoz ass catches dem doggystyle.

 **DEAN**  
(chuckling)  
Oh, I almost forgot son!   
(he approaches tha IMPALA n' runs a hand along it gangbanginly.)  
Yo, dopeheart, did you miss me son?

DEAN gets up in tha driverz side, settlez in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude sees a iPood plugged tha fuck into tha stereo, pauses, n' gives it a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty look. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM gets tha fuck into tha passengerz seat, smiling. DEAN glares at his muthafuckin ass.

 **DEAN  
** What tha hell is that?

 **SAM  
** Thatz a iPood jack.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass was supposed ta take care of her, not douche her up.

 **SAM  
** Dean, I thought dat shiznit was mah car.

DEAN sneers, sighs, n' turns tha key up in tha ignition. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. "Vision" by Jizzo Manns begins ta play. DEAN rolls his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' glares at SAM again, lookin pained.

 **DEAN  
** Really?

SAM shrugs innocently. DEAN rips tha iPood outta tha jack n' tosses it up in tha back seat.

EXT. TWO-LANE BLACKTOP- NIGHT

DEAN n' SAM is back up in they familiar places, havin a heart-to-heart up in tha IMPALA on a thugged-out dark road. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** Therez still one thang thatz botherin mah dirty ass.

 **SAM  
** Yeah?

 **DEAN**  
Yeah, tha night dat I bit dat shit. Or... gots bit.  
(he chucklez at his own wit)  
How'd you make it out, biatch? I thought Lilith was goin ta bust a cap up in you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** Well, dat dunkadelic hoe tried. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Biatch couldn't.

 **DEAN  
** What do you mean, dat thugged-out biiiatch couldn't?

 **SAM  
** Bitch fired this, like, burnin light at me, and... didn't leave a scratch. Like I was immune or something.

 **DEAN  
** Immune?

 **SAM  
** Yeah. I don't give a fuck whoz ass was mo' surprised, her or mah dirty ass. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch left pretty fast afta that.

 **DEAN  
** Huh. What bout Ruby, where is she?

 **SAM  
** Dead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! For now, nahmeean?

 **DEAN**  
(bites his fuckin lip, like he not shizzle da thug wants ta ask)  
So you've been rockin your, uh, freaky ESP stuff?

 **SAM  
** No.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass shizzle bout that, biatch? Well, I mean, now dat you've got... immunity, whatever tha hell dat is... just wonderin what tha fuck other kind of weirdo crap you've gots goin on.

 **SAM  
** Nothing, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Look, you didn't want me ta go down dat road, so I didn't go down dat road. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dat shiznit was practically yo' dyin wish.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, well, letz keep it dat way.

SAM broods.

EXT. PAMELA'S HOUSE- DAY

They knocks on tha door, n' PAMELA opens dat shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is up in her thirties, phat n' dope wit a locked n loaded smile.

 **PAMELA  
** Bobby!

She grabs his ass tha fuck into a hug, liftin his ass briefly off tha ground. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! SAM n' DEAN share a look.

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass be a sight fo' sore eyes.

PAMELA steps back n' looks SAM n' DEAN up n' down appraisingly.

 **PAMELA  
** So, these tha thugs?

 **BOBBY  
** Sam, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. This is Pamela Barnes, dopest damn psycho up in tha state.

 **DEAN**  
(flirting, of course)  
Hey.

 **SAM**  
(a lil awkwardly)  
Hi.

 **PAMELA  
** Mmm-mmm-mmm. Dean Winchesta n' shit. Out of tha fire n' back up in tha fryin pan, huh, biatch? Makes you a rare individual.

 **DEAN  
** If you say so.

 **PAMELA  
** Come on in. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

INT. PAMELA'S HOUSE- DAY

PAMELA ushers dem in, first BOBBY, then DEAN, then SAM, n' shuts tha door behind dem wild-ass muthafuckas.

 **BOBBY  
** So, you hear anything?

 **PAMELA  
** Well, I Ouija'd mah way all up in a thugged-out dozen spirits, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. No one seems ta know whoz ass broke yo' pimp out, or why.

 **BOBBY  
** So whatz next?

 **PAMELA  
** A séance, I think. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. See if we can peep whoz ass did tha deed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass aint gonna... summon tha damn thang here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **PAMELA  
** No. I just wanna git a sneak peek at dat shit. Like a cold-ass lil crystal bizzle without tha crystal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.

 **DEAN  
** I be game.

INT. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SEANCE ROOM- DAY

PAMELA spreadz a funky-ass black tablecloth covered up in symbols over a lil' small-ass table. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM n' DEAN peep it warily; DEAN cocks his head as PAMELA squats up in front of a cold-ass lil cabinet, revealin a scrawled tattoo across her lower back dat reads:

Jizzy Forever

 **DEAN  
** Whoz Jesse?

 **PAMELA**  
(laughs)  
Well, it wasn't alllll muthafuckin day.

 **DEAN  
** His loss.

PAMELA standz wit nuff muthafuckin pillar candlez up in her hands, stops up in front of DEAN wit a smirk.

 **PAMELA  
** Might be yo' gain.

As she passes by, DEAN turns ta SAM n' lowers his voice.

 **DEAN  
** Dude, I be so in.

 **SAM  
** Yeah, she gonna smoke you kickin dat shit, yo.

 **DEAN  
** Yo, I just gots outta tha slamma. Brin dat shit.

 **PAMELA**  
(passin by again, ta SAM wit a wink)  
Yo ass is invited too, grumpy.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass is NOT invited. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.

LATER: PAMELA, BOBBY, SAM, n' DEAN is seated round tha lil' small-ass table, which now has six lighted candlez up in tha center n' shit.

 **PAMELA**  
Right. Take each otherz hands.  
(they do)  
And I need ta bust a nut on suttin' our mystery monsta touched.

PAMELA slides her hand along DEAN'S inner thigh yo. Dude jumps.

 **DEAN  
** Whoa. Well, da ruffneck didn't bust a nut on me there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **PAMELA  
** My fuckin mistake.

DEAN looks around, nervous, then takes off his outa shirt, pulls up his fuckin left t-shirt sleeve ta reveal tha BRAND. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM stares at it, shocked, looks at BOBBY. PAMELA lays her hand on tha BRAND.

 **PAMELA**  
Okay.   
(All four close they eyes as PAMELA begins ta chant)  
I invoke, conjure, n' command you, step tha fuck up unto me before dis circle.  
I invoke, conjure, n' command you, step tha fuck up unto me before dis circle.  
I invoke, conjure, n' command you, step tha fuck up unto me before dis circle.  
(a televizzle flicks on ta static; dat thugged-out biiiatch continues)  
I invoke, conjure, n' command... Castiel, biatch? No. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sorry, Castiel, I don't scare easy as fuck .

 **DEAN  
** Castiel?

 **PAMELA**  
Its name. It aint nuthin but whisperin ta me, warnin me ta turn back.   
(white noise n' static continues, n' tha table begins ta shake)  
I conjure n' command you, show me yo' face.   
I conjure n' command you, show me yo' face.   
I conjure n' command you, show me yo' face.   
I conjure n' command you, show me yo' face.

 **BOBBY**  
(as tha white noise n' rattlin become mo' violent)  
Maybe we should stop.

 **PAMELA**  
I almost gots dat shit.   
I command you, show me yo' grill biaatch!  
Show me yo' grill now!

Suddenly tha candlez flare up nuff muthafuckin feet up in tha air n' PAMELA begins ta scream yo. Her eyes fly open n' is filled wit a white-hot flame. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch collapses; tha rattling, white noise, n' flames take a thugged-out dirtnap out.

 **BOBBY**  
(catchin her n' lowerin her ta tha floor)  
Call 9-1-1!

SAM scramblez outta his chair n' tha fuck into tha next room. DEAN crouches over PAMELA n' BOBBY. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch is conscious yo, but bleedin n' burned. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Her eyelidz fly open ta reveal black, empty sockets, n' you can put dat on yo' toast. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch sobs.

 **PAMELA  
** I can't peep biaaatch! I can't peep biaaatch! Oh god!

In tha next room we can hear SAM callin fo' a ambulance.


	4. ACT THREE

INT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER- DAY

DEAN is chillin at a table givin his order ta a WAITRESS.

 **WAITRESS  
** Be up in a jiff.

As she leaves, SAM enters, poppin' off on his beeper. Shiiit, dis aint no joke.

 **SAM  
** (into tha phone) Yo ass bet. (he sits)

 **DEAN  
** What'd Bobby say?

 **SAM  
** Pamz stable fo' realz. And outta I.C.U.

 **DEAN  
** And blind, cuz of us.

 **SAM  
** And we still have no clue whoz ass our phat asses dealin with.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz not entirely true.

 **SAM  
** No?

 **DEAN  
** We gots a name. Castiel, or whatever n' shit. With tha right mumbo-jumbo we could summon him, brang his ass right ta us.

 **SAM  
** Yo ass is crazy fo' realz. Absolutely not.

 **DEAN  
** We bout ta work his ass over n' shit. I mean, afta what tha fuck da ruffneck did?

 **SAM  
** Pam took a peek at his ass n' her eyes burned outta her skull, n' you want ta git a gangbangin' grill ta face?

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass gots a funky-ass betta idea?

 **SAM  
** Yeah, as a matta of fact I do. I followed some demons ta town, right?

 **DEAN  
** Okay.

 **SAM  
** So, we go find dem wild-ass muthafuckas. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Someonez gotta know suttin' bout something.

Da WAITRESS reappears wit two platez of pie. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch sets dem on tha table.

 **SAM  
** Thanks.

Da WAITRESS then plops down up in a cold-ass lil chair all up in tha end of tha table. DEAN looks at her, smirking.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass anglin fo' a tip?

 **WAITRESS  
** I be sorry as a muthafucka bout dat bullshit. Thought you was lookin fo' us.

Her eyes go demon-black fo' a moment; a UNIFORMED MAN by tha counta n' a COOK behind tha counta also show tha demon-black; tha UNIFORMED MAN goes ta tha door, locks it, n' standz up in front of dat shit.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** (eyes goin back ta normal) Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. To hell n' back fo' realz. Aren't you a thugged-out dirty duck.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz mah dirty ass.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** So you git ta just stroll outta tha pit, huh, biatch? Tell mah dirty ass. What make you so special?

 **DEAN  
** I gotta be thinkin itz cuz of mah perky nipples. I don't give a gangbangin' fuck. Wasn't mah bustin, I don't give a fuck whoz ass pulled mah crazy ass out.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** Right. Yo ass don't.

 **DEAN  
** No. I don't.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** Lyingz a sin, you know.

 **DEAN  
** I aint lying. But I'd like ta smoke up, so if you wouldn't mind enlightenin me, Flo...

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** Mind yo' tone wit me, boy. I be bout ta drag you back ta hell mah dirty ass.

SAM, whoz ass has been starin daggers at her all up in dis exchange, shifts as if ta attack. DEAN holdz a hand up n' SAM stops, settlez back tha fuck into his seat.

 **DEAN  
** Fuck dat shit, you won't.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** No?

 **DEAN  
** No. Because if you was you would have done it already. Fact is, you don't give a fuck whoz ass cut me loose fo' realz. And you just as spooked as we is fo' realz. And you lookin fo' lyrics. Well, maybe dat shiznit was some turbo-charged spirit, n' I aint talkin bout no muthafuckin Jack Daniels neither. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Or, uh, Godzilla. Or some big-ass shitty boss demon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. I be guessin at yo' pay grade dat they don't rap squat. Because whoever it was, they want me up fo' realz. And they a shitload stronger than you, biatch. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. So go ahead. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Send mah crazy ass back. But don't come crawlin ta me when they show up on yo' front stoop wit some Vaseline n' a gangbangin' fire hose.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** I be goin ta reach down yo' throat n' rip up yo' lungs.

DEAN leans forward, a cold-ass lil challenge up in his wild lil' fuckin eyes yo. Dude throws a right hook at her, which dat dunkadelic hoe takes yo. Dude throws another n' shit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch still do not a god damn thang but glare at them, lookin mo' n' mo' nervous.

 **DEAN  
** Thatz what tha fuck I thought. Letz go, Sam.

They stand, n' tha demon sits there, fuming. DEAN pulls a roll of chedda outta his thugged-out lil' pocket n' carefully peels off a ten dollar bill yo. Dude holdz it up n' drops it on tha table like a insult.

 **DEAN  
** For tha pie.

EXT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER- DAY

SAM n' DEAN stalk outta tha diner n' across tha street, tense n' quick.

 **DEAN  
** Holy crap, dat was close.

 **SAM  
** We not just goin ta leave dem up in there, is we, Dean?

 **DEAN  
** Well yeah, there be a three of them, probably more, n' we've only gots one knife between us.

 **SAM  
** I've been cappin' a shitload mo' demons than dat lately.

 **DEAN  
** Not no mo'- tha smarta brotherz back up in town. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **SAM  
** Dean, we've gots ta take 'em. They is dangerous.

 **DEAN  
** They're trippin like a muthafucka. Okay, biatch? Scared of whatever had tha juice ta yank me out. Us dudes dealin wit a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass mofo here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. One thang at a time.

INT fo' realz. ASTORIA MOTEL- NIGHT

DEAN is dozin on tha couch wit a big-ass book open up in his fuckin lap. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sneaks out, checkin ta make shizzle DEAN don't wake.

EXT fo' realz. ASTORIA MOTEL- NIGHT

SAM drives away up in tha IMPALA.

INT fo' realz. ASTORIA MOTEL- NIGHT

As DEAN dozes, tha televizzle flicks on ta tha now-familiar static, n' tha radio starts whinin as well. It wakes DEAN, whoz ass rubs tha chill outta his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' rolls quickly ta grab a SHOTGUN lyin by tha bed. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Dude looks round cautiously, glances at SAM'S bed n' sees dat it is empty yo. Dude grimaces. Da painfully high-pitched noise begins again, n' he grabs his bangin right ear, keepin tha weapon up in his fuckin left hand. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! A mirror on tha ceilin shattas n' rains fucked up glass down on his muthafuckin ass yo. Dude crumplez ta tha ground, clutchin both ears as all tha glass up in tha room shattas explosively yo. Dude screams.

BOBBY bursts tha fuck into tha room as mo' glass shatters.

 **BOBBY  
** Dean!


	5. ACT FOUR

EXT. ROAD- NIGHT

BOBBY drives his hoopty as DEAN, up in tha passengerz seat, wipes blood from his wild lil' face.

 **BOBBY  
** How tha fuck you doin', kid?

 **DEAN  
** Aside from tha church bells ringin up in mah head, peachy.

DEAN pulls up his cell beeper n' dials a number.

EXT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER- NIGHT

SAM is up in tha IMPALA, stakin up tha diner full of demons yo. His cell beeper rings; he lyrics dat shit.

 **SAM (PHONE)  
** Hey.

 **DEAN (PHONE)  
** What is you bustin?

 **SAM  
** Couldn't chill, went ta git a funky-ass burger.

 **DEAN  
** In mah car?

 **SAM  
** Force of habit, sorry bout dat bullshit. What is you bustin up?

 **DEAN**  
Well, uh, Bobbyz back. We goin ta grab a funky-ass brew.  
(on BOBBY'S shocked look, DEAN holdz up a gangbangin' finger.)

 **SAM  
** All right, well, uh, spill some fo' me, huh?

 **DEAN**  
Done. Catch you later.  
(They hang up.)

 **BOBBY  
** Why tha hell didn't you tell him?

 **DEAN  
** Because he just tried ta stop us.

 **BOBBY  
** From what?

 **DEAN**  
Summonin dis thang.   
(BOBBY looks at his ass up in shock fo' realz. Again.)  
It aint nuthin but time we faced it head-on.

 **BOBBY  
** Yo ass can't be serious!

 **DEAN  
** As a ass attack. It aint nuthin but high noon, baby.

 **BOBBY  
** Well, our phat asses don't give a fuck what tha fuck it is. Well shiiiit, it could be a thugged-out demon, it could be anything.

 **DEAN**  
Thatz why we've gots ta be locked n loaded fo' anything.   
(he pulls up RUBY'S DEMON-KILLING KNIFE)  
We've gots tha big-time magic knife, you've gots a arsenal up in tha trunk...

 **BOBBY  
** This be a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass idea.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I couldn't smoke mo' yo, but what tha fuck other chizzle do our crazy asses have?

 **BOBBY  
** We could chizzle game.

 **DEAN  
** Bobby, whatever dis is, whatever it wants, itz afta mah dirty ass. That much we know, right, biatch? I've gots no place ta hide. I can either git caught wit mah baggy-ass pants down again, or we can make our stand.

 **BOBBY  
** Dean, we could use Sam on this.

 **DEAN  
** Nah, his thugged-out lil' punk-ass betta off where he is.

  
INT. JOHNNY MAC'S DINER- NIGHT

SAM sneaks tha fuck into tha darkened diner n' slips his fuckin lock-pickin tools tha fuck into his hoodie pocket fo' realz. A cold lil' woo wop is playin on tha jukebox. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM sneaks up in on tha fuckin' down-lowly, sees tha COOK from earlier face-down on tha floor, his handz bloody. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM crouches n' turns tha playa over; he is dead, his wild lil' fuckin eyes burned up n' dryin blood caked on his cheeks. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM stands.

A figure tacklez his ass from behind- it is tha DEMON WAITRESS. They trade blows fo' all dem moments until SAM shoves her away. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch too has empty, burned up eye sockets n' blood tricklin down her face. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Biatch looks both terrifyin n' terrified. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **SAM  
** Yo crazy-ass eyes.

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** I can still smell yo' ass a mile away.

 **SAM  
** Dat shiznit was here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Yo ass saw dat shit.

 **DEMON WAITRESS**  
(sobbing)  
I saw dat shit.

 **SAM  
** What was it?

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** It aint nuthin but tha end yo, but it ain't no stoppin cause I be still poppin'. Us dudes dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. We all dead as fuckin fried chicken. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **SAM**  
(insisting)  
What did you see?

 **DEMON WAITRESS  
** Go ta hell.

 **SAM  
** Funny. I was goin ta say tha same thang ta you, biatch.

SAM steps back, plants his wild lil' feet, n' shuts his wild lil' fuckin eyes up in concentration. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch yo. Dude extendz his bangin right hand towardz tha demon. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Biatch heaves n' begins ta vomit black smoke tha fuck into her hand; up in seconds, tha WAITRESS has collapsed ta tha floor as tha DEMON is sucked down tha fuck into tha Pit. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. SAM opens his wild lil' fuckin eyes n' crosses ta tha biatch on tha floor yo. Dude checks her pulse, sighs up in disappointment.

 **SAM  
** Damn dat shit.

Da kitchen door opens n' a biatch comes up yo. Dude looks up, apparently not surprised ta peep her n' shit. Well shiiiit, it is tha HOT YOUNG WOMAN from ACT ONE.

 **HOT YOUNG WOMAN (henceforth called RUBY)  
** Gettin pretty slick there, Sam. Betta all tha time.

SAM standz n' they share a smolderin look yo. Dude looks down all up in tha corpse at his wild lil' feet, his wild lil' grill falling.

 **SAM  
** What tha hell is goin on round here, Ruby?

 **RUBY  
** I wish I knew.

 **SAM  
** Us thugs was thankin some high level demon pulled Dean out.

 **RUBY  
** No way. Right back up in yo muthafuckin ass. Sam, human souls don't just strutt outta Hell n' back tha fuck into they bodies easy as fuck . Da sky bleeds, tha ground quakes. It aint nuthin but cosmic. No demon can swin dis shit. Not Lilith, not anybody.

 **SAM  
** Then what tha fuck can?

 **RUBY  
** Nothang I've eva peeped before.

  
INT. WAREHOUSE- NIGHT

BOBBY draws a symbol wit white spray paint on tha cement floor fo' realz. As da perved-out muthafucka stands, we peep dat tha entire floor, walls, n' ceilin of tha empty rectangular warehouse is covered up in similar images.

 **DEAN**  
(at a table, settin up shit)  
Thatz a hell of a art project you've gots goin there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.

 **BOBBY  
** Traps n' talismans from every last muthafuckin faith on tha globe yo. How tha fuck you doin?

 **DEAN  
** Stakes, iron, silver, salt, knife. I mean, we pretty much set ta catch n' bust a cap up in anythang I've eva heard of.

 **BOBBY  
** This is still a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shitty-ass idea.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, Bobby, I heard you tha straight-up original gangsta ten times. What do you say we rang tha dinner bell?

BOBBY nodz reluctantly yo. Dude goes over ta another desk, takes a pinch of some powder from a funky-ass bowl, n' sprinklez it tha fuck into a larger bowl, which begins ta smoke yo. Dude chants up in Latin. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

  
INT. JOHHNY MAC'S DINER- NIGHT

RUBY n' SAM is seated across from each other at a lil' small-ass table.

 **RUBY  
** So. Mazillion dollar question, is you goin ta tell Dean bout what tha fuck our phat asses bustin?

 **SAM**  
Yeah, I just gotta git into tha right way ta say dat shit.   
(RUBY gives his ass a look)  
Look, I just need time, aiiight, biatch? Thatz all.

 **RUBY  
** Sam, he goin ta smoke up, n' if it aint from you he goin ta be pissed.

 **SAM  
** Dat punk goin ta be pissed anyway. I mean, da perved-out muthafucka so hardheaded bout dis psycho shiznit he'll just try n' stop mah dirty ass.

 **RUBY  
** Look. Maybe I be bout ta just take a step back fo' a while.

 **SAM  
** Ruby, you, biatch...

 **RUBY  
** I mean, I aint exactly up in yo' brotherz fanclub. But he is yo' brother, n' I aint goin ta come between you, biatch.

 **SAM  
** I don't give a fuck if what tha fuck I be bustin is right yo. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you, biatch.

 **RUBY  
** Thanks.

 **SAM  
** But what tha fuck I do know is dat I be savin playas fo' realz. And stoppin demons fo' realz. And dat feels good. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg! I wanna keep going.

  
INT. WAREHOUSE- NIGHT

DEAN n' BOBBY is seated on tables, swingin they hairy-ass legs n' lookin bored.

 **DEAN**  
Yo ass shizzle you did tha ritual right?  
(BOBBY gives his ass a look)  
Sorry. Touchy, touchy, huh?

As if on cue, a funky-ass bangin rattlin shakes tha roof. DEAN n' BOBBY arm theyselves wit shotguns n' take positions all up in tha far end of tha warehouse.

 **DEAN  
** Wishful thankin yo, but maybe itz just tha wind.

Da door bursts open n' a thugged-out playa up in a funky-ass bidnizz suit n' trenchcoat stalks up in CASTIEL.

Da light bulbs above his head shatta up in a gangbangin' finger-lickin' dirty-ass shower of sparks as he passes dem wild-ass muthafuckas fo' realz. As he approaches, DEAN n' BOBBY both open fire yo, but tha shots do not even slow his ass down. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Dean takes tha MAGIC KNIFE as CASTIEL gets close.

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?

 **CASTIEL  
** I be tha one whoz ass gripped you tight n' raised you from perdition. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah. Thanks fo' dis shit.

DEAN rears back n' plunges tha MAGIC KNIFE tha fuck into CASTIEL'S chest. CASTIEL looks down, unconcerned, n' pulls it out, drops it ta tha floor. Shiiit, dis aint no joke. Behind him, BOBBY attacks; without looking, CASTIEL grabs BOBBY'S weapon n' uses it ta swin his ass around. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! CASTIEL touches BOBBY on tha forehead wit fingertips n' BOBBY crumplez ta tha ground.

 **CASTIEL  
** We need ta talk, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch fo' realz. Alone.


	6. ACT FIVE

DEAN crouches over BOBBY, checkin his thugged-out lil' pulse yo. Dude glares at CASTIEL.

 **CASTIEL  
** Yo crazy-ass playaz kickin dat shit, yo.

 **DEAN  
** Dum diddy-dum, here I come biaaatch! Who tha fuck is yo slick ass?

 **CASTIEL  
** Castiel.

 **DEAN  
** Yeah, I figured dat much, I mean  _what_  is yo slick ass?

 **CASTIEL  
** I be a Angel of tha Lord. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

 **DEAN  
** Git tha hell outta here, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho. Therez no such thang.

 **CASTIEL  
** This is yo' problem, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Yo ass have no faith.

Lightnin flashes, n' on CASTIEL'S back pimped out shadowy wings appear, stretchin off tha fuck into tha distance. Da light goes up n' tha image disappears.

 **DEAN  
** Some angel yo ass is. Yo ass burned up dat skanky biatchz eyes.

 **CASTIEL  
** I warned her not ta spy on mah legit form. Well shiiiit, it can be... overwhelmin ta humans, n' so can mah real voice. But you already knew dis shit.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass mean tha gas station n' tha motel. That was you rappin', biatch? (CASTIEL nods.) Buddy, next time, lower tha volume.

 **CASTIEL  
** That was mah mistake. Certain people, special people, can perceive mah legit visage.. n' you KNOWS you would be one of dem wild-ass muthafuckas. I was wrong.

 **DEAN  
** And what tha fuck visage is you up in now, huh, biatch? What, holy tax accountant?

 **CASTIEL  
** This, biatch? This is... a vessel.

 **DEAN  
** Yo ass is possessin some skanky bastard?

 **CASTIEL  
** Dat punk a thugged-out devout dude, he straight-up prayed fo' all dis bullshit.

 **DEAN  
** Well, I aint buyin what tha fuck you selling, so whoz ass is you straight-up?

 **CASTIEL  
** (frowning) I holla'd at you, biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Right fo' realz. And why would a angel rescue me from Hell?

 **CASTIEL  
** Dope thangs do happen, Dean. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.

 **DEAN  
** Not up in mah experience.

 **CASTIEL  
** Whatz tha matter, biatch? Yo ass don't be thinkin you deserve ta be saved?

 **DEAN  
** Why'd you do it?

 **CASTIEL  
** Because Dogg commanded dat shit. Because our crazy asses have work fo' you, biatch.


End file.
